


Heartsmith

by LicieOIC



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/M, Falling In Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe, people don't wear their hearts on their sleeves... they wear them around their necks. Sometimes, when a heart is broken or damaged, you can get a new one, but Rose would rather have her heart repaired. A heart-seller in the market points her to the Heartsmith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an AMAZING comic by miyuli, which can be found here: http://miyuli.tumblr.com/post/77927805768/finally-i-can-present-you-my-little-comic-hearts  
> She is an INCREDIBLE artist, buy her stuff!

“Would you like to buy a heart?”

The young woman stood in the midst of the market square, her cloud-like black hair escaping the hood of her long, deep blue cloak in smoky wisps. Her dark eyes were bright with youthful enthusiasm, sparkling as if she held the stars within them. At her side, tucked in the crook of her elbow, hung a large wicker basket, full of shining red hearts, glimmering like jewels. She held one in the palm of her other hand, carefully, but still enticingly, as though she’d done it for ages and displaying it just right was second nature. The gem-like heart hovered just above her skin, casting its red hue over half of her, making her blue garments look purple.

“Fully refurbished! Like new!” she called to the patrons of the market.

A lady stopped before her, her status evident from the gold trim on her cloak, but her other features were hidden as she clutched the heavy gray mantle close around herself.

“I don’t suppose you mend broken hearts as well?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Goodness, no!” exclaimed the heart-seller. “I’m just a TARDIS.”

The lady nodded, either recognizing the acronym for ‘Trainee Apprentice - Regular Duties In Smithing,’ or wasn’t bothered. It was common for TA’s to be sent into the market to sell their master’s wares. The heart-seller pointed down the street.

“At the end of the market on the corner, however,” she went on, “you’ll find my master, the Heartsmith.” She indicated her basket. “He’s the one who refurbishes all the hearts I sell. Look for the blue door that says ‘pull,’ but you actually have to push.”

The lady breathed a sigh. “Thank you-- what’s your name?”

“Idris.”

“Thank you, Idris,” she said. “I’m Rose.” She turned and started off down the street.

Rose had seen the woman with the hearts before, but only from the interior of a carriage. She rarely ventured from her parents’ estate these days and never by herself, so this solo venture had taken quite a bit of courage. She could have taken the carriage, but she hadn’t wanted her family to find out her reasons for going to market, they wouldn’t have understood, not many people would. She was just so tired of being afraid all the time, she’d eventually resolved to find out if the heart-seller could help her.

She found the blue door, just where Idris said it would be. Experimentally, she pulled as the door instructed, but it didn’t budge. She pushed and the door opened quite easily. She smiled a little at the eccentricity of it.

Inside, a copper colored domed structure was supported by graceful sloped beams, little round lights set in hexagons along the walls lit the area with warm tones. Her eyes were drawn to the center of the room, where a massive glass column glowed green, a round, mushroom shaped table spread out around the bottom of it, covered in various bits and bobs, like a sort of console.

A man stood on the other side of the column, Rose had to step closer in order to see him, unobscured. He was wearing a set of dark glass goggles, protecting his eyes from the sparks that were shooting from an open panel of the console. His mouth was set in a tight line, a slashing dimple in his cheek showed that his jaw was set, betraying his focus, as he carefully aimed a slim wand, blazing with purple fire, into the interior of the machine. The emerald and gold light and the flashing sparks threw him into stark relief. It made him look like some kind of mad scientist, coupled with his wild hair that stood up at all angles and the thick rubber gloves on his hands that matched the heavy black apron he wore.

She cleared her throat. Even though the sound was soft, the sparks stopped at once as he looked up, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. The expression quickly turned to one of delight as he cried, “Ah! A customer!”

The instrument he’d been handling clattered on the metal grating as he set it down and bounded around the console to greet her. He lifted the goggles, settling them on the top of his head, revealing merry eyes the color of rich chocolate. Somehow, the goggles looked like they belonged in the nest of chestnut hair. He pulled the gloves off, saying, “What can I do for--”

Rose lowered the hood of her cloak and the man’s breath seemed to leave him all at once.

“...you.”

He hadn’t seen her for a long time, but he’d remember those hazel eyes flecked with gold, the same gold as her hair, anywhere. She’d been a figure of heated gossip for months, about a year ago, and had since disappeared from society. He’d never spoken to her before now, but he’d wanted to, back when the incident had happened. He hadn’t understood the urge that came over him, to run over and hug her and shield her from the prying eyes of the public, like vultures, like wolves sensing weakness. She was so beautiful, so young, too young for what had happened.

His smile had faltered for that one second in which he’d realized it was her, but he brought it back in full force, not wanting her to know that he knew. Maybe it was a little too bright, too wide, but hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

“I’m John,” he said, holding both gloves in his left hand so that he could offer her his right. “But people call me the Doctor.” His longer fingers wrapped almost all the way around her small hand.

“I’m Rose.” She tilted her head at him, curiously. “Just ‘the Doctor?’”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p.’ “Because I fix things.”

She nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I was told you can fix broken hearts.” Carefully, so carefully, she pulled on a delicate gold chain around her neck, pulling the heart free from where it was tucked beneath the bodice of her light pink gown.

He whistled low as he looked at the softly glowing heart in her cupped hands. It was chipped and cracked, much more than any other heart he’d worked on before, the fissures spidering out to the very edges. It was only held together by the smallest part of its base, it seemed as though any strain could break it completely.

“This one’s really damaged,” he said, but his tone was thoughtful rather than apologetic. He looked up at her, his brown eyes soft. “But why go to the trouble of fixing it? Why not trade it in for something new?”

“My mother got a new heart, a long time ago, after my father died. My step-father is a good man, but--” She closed her eyes briefly, but he’d seen the ache of pain that flashed there. “This is why I came here alone, I knew no one would understand--”

He caught her arm as she turned to leave. “Wait, please,” he said. He released her at once, not wanting to scare her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I was just concerned. After all, not many people will fix something when they can get a new one.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then took a deep breath. “What if he hadn’t been a good man? What if he’d broken my mother’s new heart? Should she then get another new one? To be broken all over again?” She shook her head, looking down at her poor mangled heart. “I don’t want to forget why it was broken in the first place. That’s why I want to fix this one. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, to go outside, to be around other people, afraid to feel… anything. I want to live again, and I can’t do that when the slightest thing might break my heart altogether.” Her eyes were sad when she looked up at him again, but they sparked with a determination that made him admire her. “Now, do you understand?”

He nodded. “Yes. I… think I can help you.” He rubbed his chin as he looked at the heart. “It just might take a while. You’ll… have to leave it here,” he said, gently, knowing it wouldn’t be easy. “Is that all right?”

She bit her lip, but inclined her chin in assent. With exaggerated care, she removed it from the chain and held it out to him. With the sure hands of a Heartsmith, he took it from her, delicately placing it into a glass heart container that sat on an old beat-up chair nearby. He turned back to her to find her playing with the end of the chain, nervously.

“Feels so strange, to be without it,” she said.

He smiled, sympathetically. It was normal to feel insecure without one’s heart. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll give you a loaner.”

She blinked at him. “What, you mean, one of the hearts you refurbish?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” he said, waving a hand. “Can’t have you mucking up a fresh one with feelings, it’ll be twice the work to get it ready to sell again.” He shook his head. “No, I’ll give you one that’s broken in, if you’ll excuse the pun.”

Her eyes went wide as he reached beneath his stained blue shirt, which was open at the collar, and began pulling on a slim silver chain. “You’d give me yours?” she breathed in wonder. “But… what if something happens to it? And won’t you miss it?”

“Nah,” he said. “I’ve got two.”

Her mouth dropped open as he tugged the heart, no, _hearts_ , free from under his shirt. Just as he said, there were two strung on the chain, and they were _gold_ , rather than red. A faint shimmery miasma swirled just beneath the surface, almost like fiery clouds.

“You’re not from here, are you?” she asked with a little smile, her first since walking through his push-pull door. It was a tantalizing hint of how dazzling a real smile from her would be.

“No,” he said. “That all right?”

“Yes,” she said immediately. Her eyes flicked between him and his hearts for a moment. “You’ll really give me one of yours?” she asked, marveling at the trust he was displaying.

“While I’m fixing yours, yes,” he said, removing one from the chain. He took her hand, holding it palm up, and gave the heart into her keeping. “It’s older than yours, so it might be a bit heavier than what you’re used to,” he said, apologetically.

Her fingers curled upward a bit, automatically cupping the heart. It hovered over her fingers, whole and glimmering. She lifted it up, the gold light turning her eyes amber, as she watched the cloudy surface change and shift in amazement. “It’s beautiful,” she said, wonderingly. She transferred it to her chain, the weight of it reassuring her as she held it in both hands. “Thank you,” she said, sincerely. “I’ll take good care of it.”

He gave a slight shrug as he tucked his remaining heart back under his clothes. “You’re used to caring for a delicate heart, I trust you.” He angled his chin at the chair where her heart sat inside the secure container. “I can’t make any promises about yours… but I will do my absolute best.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure when it will be ready. Just come by whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“I will. Oh… What about the cost?”

“We can discuss that later.”

She nodded. “All right.” She turned to go, placing the gold heart beneath her bodice. It was so _warm_. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, looking back from the door.

He smiled and lifted a hand in farewell. The door clicked shut behind her. He blew out a breath. Lifting the heart container up to eye level, he frowned. He was not looking forward to delving into Rose’s past hurt, but he would do it to save her heart. It was why he was such a good Heartsmith… He might look human, but as he’d revealed to Rose, he was not. His race of people were empaths. Each fracture was like a thread, weaving a story that only he could see, and always full of such sadness.

Rose didn’t deserve to have such a broken heart. She was so young, so full of potential. She saw the value in mending a heart, it would lend her a certain empathy when he was finished with it. He was certain he could get it back into working order, at least enough so she wouldn’t be so fearful anymore.

He sighed again as he looked around the room. It just _had_ to be a market day, leaving him without his TA… Where had Idris left his tools?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I borrowed a line from Cinderella. ^_^

Rose came back the following day, reassured by the presence of the Doctor's strong heart tucked beneath her pale lavender dress. She was still careful with it, after all, it didn't belong to her, but feelings seemed to flow so easily through it. She felt lighter than she had in a long time, despite the extra weight of its age. The Doctor didn't look so much older than her... She wondered what had happened to make his heart heavy. Of course, he only _looked_ human, so perhaps he just _looked_ young.

She pushed through the blue door and peeked inside. Idris was with him today and they were seated on either side of a workbench. The Doctor was wearing a different set of goggles than yesterday, this pair had one clear lens with a multitude of magnifiers attached, and one green lens fitted with brass gears. He was focused intently on Rose’s heart, which was perched over a little red flame, swooping copper curls holding it in place. Occasionally, the Doctor would hold out his hand, encased in fitted, supple gloves today, and ask for something in a lilting language she wasn’t familiar with. Idris seemed to know what he was saying, however, as she would immediately hand him a tool from the table.

Rose was hesitant to interrupt, what if she startled him and ruined something? But Idris noticed her presence almost at once, lifting her head and smiling delightedly. She got up from her chair and came over.

“Hello, Rose!” she said, cheerfully. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she said. From beneath her cloak, she lifted up a white box tied up with string. “I brought cake.”

“Oooh!” Idris took the box from her, eagerly.

“Shouldn’t we tell him?” Rose asked, tilting her head toward the Doctor.

“Oh, he’ll figure out you’re here any moment now,” said Idris.

Sure enough, the Doctor held out his hand for a tool and asked for it, twice, then lifted his head in annoyance. “Idris!” He looked around when he realized she was no longer across the work table from him. “Where did--” He startled visibly when his head turned toward the two women.

Rose lifted a hand and waved her fingers at him. “Hello.”

He lifted the goggles and set them on his head as he stood up. “You’re back,” he said, surprise evident in his tone and expression. “It’s… erm… not quite ready.” He gestured at the heart.

“I didn’t think it would be,” said Rose. “Even miracles take a little time.”

Idris lifted the box. “She brought cake!”

“Oooh!” said the Doctor, almost a mirror of his assistant’s reaction, as he came forward and untied the strings to lift up the lid. His eyes widened in anticipation and pleasure as he saw the chocolate frosted cake with the tiny silver balls decorating it. “My favorite!” he cried.

Rose smiled. “I know.” She held a hand to her chest. “I woke up with a craving.”

The Doctor blushed lightly, the pink in his cheeks making his freckles stand out. “Er… yes,” he said, pulling on his left ear. “I should have mentioned that there may be a few side effects.”

“It’s all right. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

He pointed Idris through a doorway and she nodded, heading off in that direction with the cake. The Doctor looked back at Rose, pride in his eyes. “Well, of course. Brilliant, you are.”

She ducked her head modestly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind an ear.

“Two smiles already,” he said, his voice softer. “I think holding onto my heart is doing you good.”

“Undoubtedly,” she agreed. “I’ve never felt so free. I owe you so much.”

He waved that away, wrinkling his nose and giving a slight shake of his head as he turned back to the workbench. He slowly rotated a dial near the apparatus so the flame lowered until it was almost gone, then removed his leather gloves and set them aside.

“So, what brings you here today?” he asked, leaning a hand on his vacated chair.

“I, um…” She fidgeted with her fingers, avoiding his gaze. “I wanted to thank you for undertaking the work. I know it’s difficult, and it means so much to me. I… I hope it’s all right that I came by, I can go if I’m bothering you…”

“No, not at all!” he said. “I just, you know, wouldn’t want to keep _you_ from anything important.” He nodded his head at her. “I mean, you’re a lady and all… I’m sure your parents don’t want you hanging around a dirty smith’s shop--”

Rose scoffed. “They’re overjoyed that I’ve gone out two days in a row,” she said. “I think they were beginning to suspect I was taking up being a hermit. You don’t, um…” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “You really don’t mind me visiting?”

“No,” he said, smiling. “It’s nice to have such a lovely face around.”

“Oi!” Idris had returned, balancing three plates of cake in her arms. She scowled at the Doctor, who scrambled to clear off another table which was cluttered with tools, parts, and pages of notes and diagrams.

“You know what I meant,” he said to her, his eyebrows drawn together.

“Yes, I know _exactly_ what you meant,” she said, coming over to deposit the dessert on the table and then retrieving three forks from her pocket. “See if I cut you anymore cake.”

He just frowned at her, then held out a chair for Rose, who joined them with another smile.

* * *

“MmmmMMM!” hummed the Doctor happily, mid-way through his slice of cake. “Little ball bearings you can EAT! I cannot stress enough how brilliant that is!”

Idris rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same, as Rose nodded her head in agreement. “I must admit, I’d never thought much about it until today, but yes! Something crunchy and fun in addition to the pleasure of eating cake. A marvelous invention.”

“Right? Wish I’d thought of it.” He popped another large bite into his mouth, smiling as he chewed. “Thank you for this,” he said, after swallowing. “Chocolate is a necessary part of heartsmithing.”

“It is?” Rose asked.

“Well, for me it is,” he clarified.

“Why? If I can ask. I honestly don’t know much about the process.”

“Well…” He paused, considering his answer. “I don’t tell this to many people, it tends to make them uncomfortable.” He set his plate aside and leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Do you trust me?”

“I’ve held your heart for a full day,” said Rose, seriously. “Of course I trust you.”

He pressed his lips together in a brief smile before launching into his explanation. “You already know that I’m not human. Well, the reason why I can mend hearts so well is because I’m empathic. I can follow the cracks in a damaged heart, reading what happened like looking at the pictures in a book, and sealing it up. Chocolate helps counteract the effects on me, it stimulates certain chemicals in the brain and raises the dopamine levels. I don’t tell people about the empathy because it tends to make them guarded, nervous, that I can see what happened to them. Seeing a person’s innermost trauma is an intimate thing.” He watched Rose carefully for her reaction, but she just shook her head and ate another bite of cake.

“Everyone knows what happened to me,” she said. “It doesn’t bother me if you know a few more details than most. In fact, I like that better… You know the real story, not just what the gossips said.” She took a deep breath and set her plate aside, giving him her full attention. “That said, I don’t want your pity. It’s taken me a long time to gain the courage to come back into society. I still see the looks people give me and I--” She looked down. “I don’t want that from you.”

“Never,” he said, reaching out for her hand, twining their fingers together automatically. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, Rose. How could I pity that?”

She smiled, but it wavered. “So you don’t… think I’m…” Her breath hitched. After all this time, she still couldn’t say it without the hurt coming back.

He grimaced, holding one hand to his chest. “Ouch…”

Her eyes widened. “You felt that?”

“Well, yes,” he said with a little smile. “Two hearts. If you feel something strong enough, I’ll feel it, too. At least when we’re in close proximity like this.” He stroked her hand with his thumb. “Still hurts, then?”

“When I think about it,” she admitted.

“Well, I happen to think you’re beautiful,” he said, with certainty. “And what happened was no fault of yours, so anyone to think you anything other than beautiful is a fool.”

“You’re very kind,” she said, softly, looking down at their joined hands.

“I’m honest,” he said. “There’s a difference.”

Idris’ fork clattered to her empty plate and she looked at the two of them expectantly. “More cake?”

* * *

Rose came back each day, always with something to eat, declaring the Doctor must have strong feelings about food, if she could sense it all the way across town. Once, she arrived before the shop was open and stood nervously on the stoop, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, for nearly an hour. At last, the lock rattled and the Doctor poked his head out, blinking in the morning light as he caught sight of her.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing there?”

“Waiting for the shop to open,” she said, as though it should be obvious.

“Well, what’d you do that for?”

She huffed in mild exasperation, shaking her head. “It’s not like I have a key.”

“Oh.” He patted his apron. “That’s easily fixed.” He retrieved a silver key from his trouser pocket and held it out to her with a big grin. “There you are. Shop key. About time you had one.”

She took it, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “Can’t have you waiting out here in the cold. Now you can come in as you please.” He held the door open for her and gestured grandly inside.

Later, she would place the key on the chain around her neck, where it dangled next to his heart.

She sat with him while he worked, sometimes they chatted, sometimes in silence. When Idris was away on market days, Rose helped him, handing him the tools he pointed to. He was amazing to watch, the dexterity and intense focus he displayed while fixing her heart was incredible. He let her see through his goggles sometimes, pointing out little fissures that were impossible to see with the naked eye. He’d invented them himself, the green lens negated the red color, which made it easier to see the problems. She declared him a genius and he haughtily told her he was well aware, which made her giggle.

He stared at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You laughed,” he said, his face slack with surprise. “I’ve never heard you do that before. It was… lovely.”

She blushed and he pointed at her face.

“And there!” he said, becoming more animated. “You’re blushing!” He smiled, his whole face lighting up. “Rose, you’re _changing_! That’s wonderful!”

“I am?” she asked, uncertain. “It is?”

“Yes!” He grabbed her hand and gestured at her heart. “Look…” As they watched, the softly glowing gem sparkled and the radiance intensified. He chuckled softly at her wondrous expression. “These new feelings you have can’t heal the cracks, but they _can_ make your heart stronger, more likely to resist breaking in the future. See how much brighter it is already?”

Hope and happiness swirled and mingled between them, shared by the two golden hearts. He looked at her, a soft emotion touching his features. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He didn’t hesitate in bringing his hands around her waist, leaning his cheek against the top of her head.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s all because of you.”

“Welllllll, I can’t take all the credit.”

“Yes, you can, you do all the time.”

He laughed. “I guess I do at that. But not now. I might have helped, but Rose…” He pulled back enough to look down at her face. “You’re responsible for the change. You have to be accepting of it before it will happen, and that’s all you. Otherwise, you stay mired where you were. And that’s something to be very proud of.”

She smiled and he touched her cheek, fondly. “You’re so much more beautiful when you smile,” he said. “That’s one change I’m very happy to have been a part of.” He took a step back and removed his apron. “Come on,” he said as he laid it across the bench. “Let’s go get some cake. I feel like celebrating! Or maybe you do, it’s hard to tell.”

She giggled again, enjoying the feeling it created, like a bubbling effervescence in her chest. “Maybe we both do. But what about Idris?”

He rolled down his sleeves, buttoned the cuffs, and pulled on a brown pinstriped jacket that matched his trousers. “We’ll bring some back for her. I’d be a poor mastersmith if I let her shirk her duties.”

“But you’re shirking yours,” she pointed out, catching her tongue in her teeth without even thinking about it, a move she hadn’t done in over a year.

He threw a long, tan coat over his shoulders and grabbed a satchel from his messy desk. “I’ve earned the right to do so. When she’s no longer a TARDIS, she can shirk all she likes.” He grabbed her hand, grinning smugly. “Allons-y!”


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor led the way to the best pastry shop in town, Rose easily keeping up with his long, loping gait, as he nattered on about their banana bread. She smiled the whole way, the feeling of pleasure going back and forth between them. He’d never shared his heart with anyone before, despite the off-hand way in which he’d loaned it, but he was finding he rather liked the side effects. He’d never held such happiness for so long before. He was just glad she wasn’t burdened with anything more cumbersome than his food cravings.

“--and they always give me a discount,” he was saying as they climbed the spiral staircase up into the round building. He held open the door for her with his free hand so she could precede him inside. “Ever since I fixed their dough machine to produce twice as much.”

“So, you’re not just a Heartsmith, then?” she asked, tugging him in after her.

“Well, we’ve already established that I _am_ a genius.” They came to a stop in front of the hostess’ podium and he offered the woman a charming smile. “Hello! A sunshiney table for the Doctor and Rose Tyler, if you please. She’s my plus-one!”

The hostess smiled politely and nodded, taking two menus and leading the way to a round table for two near a large window that featured wrought-iron curly-ques. The shop was famous for their windows, because the entire building could be rotated via a large ship’s wheel at the center of the room, so the sun could always shine through. The light glinted cheerily off the copper surface of the table, throwing patterned shadows on the tiled floor through the laser-cut designs. The Doctor assisted Rose with her chair, then seated himself on the other side. When the hostess took her leave, he grinned at Rose over the menu.

“What?” she asked, catching his eye. “You look like the cat that’s got the cream.”

“You just look rather lovely, with the sun shining in your hair,” he said. “I imagine I must appear rather impressive, having lunch with you. A Heartsmith with a lady.”

She blushed and held her menu higher to hide it. “Maybe if you were with a different lady,” she said. “There’s no esteem attached in being seen with me.” He scoffed, and she cast a serious look at him. “Truly.”

“Well, no other lady _would_ have lunch with me,” he said. “Not without some kind of title. And I wouldn’t want to have lunch with them anyway, if that was the only reason why they would deign to be with me.”

“And no lords wish to be seen with me,” she returned. “So, I suppose we are well-suited.”

“Really?” he asked, curiously. “None?”

She shook her head, her eyes on the menu, but he suspected it was just so she wouldn’t have to look at him. He could feel the turmoil coming from her. “My parents have given up on me making an advantageous match. They will have to look to my brother, once he comes of age. I just hope I haven’t ruined his chances as well.”

He paused for a moment. “One could look at this as a good thing,” he ventured, softly.

“Oh?”

He nodded, partly hiding behind his menu as well. “If you are no longer required to marry for political reasons… you might marry for love.”

She was silent for a long time. He wondered what she was thinking about, the heart she held offered him no clues as conflicting emotions chased each other.

“I suppose,” she said at last. “If someone were ever to fall in love with me, which seems just as unlikely.”

“Perhaps,” he said, slowly. “But finding love is difficult for anyone, in the best of times. I think your chances are still good.” He looked up over the edge of the elegantly printed cardstock to see that she’d lowered hers and was smiling gratefully.

“Thank you,” she said, sincerely. “You’ve given me a lot to hope for.”

He likewise set his menu on his plate to return her smile. “Well, hope’s good. I quite like hope.”

They ordered a large pot of black spice tea to share and an array of sweets, including banana muffins and a slice each of the chocolate cake with edible ball bearings. The teapot and cups were set to hover, so they never spilled. All was delightful until the hostess led two ladies near their table.

“Oh, my,” the blonde one whispered to her companion. “Do they really allow _her_ sort here?”

The Doctor’s eyes flicked to Rose, hoping she hadn’t heard, but her teacup rattled in its saucer as she set it down and he couldn’t miss the surge of embarrassment that crossed to him.

“Hush,” whispered the brunette. “It’s not as though she’s one of the Clockworks.”

“Even so,” said the first, distastefully. “A _hybrid_. And a disgraced one at that.”

The brunette caught Rose looking at them then and forced a bright smile, now obligated to say something or appear rude, though the Doctor already considered them such. “Lady Rose,” she said, coming closer to their table. “How strange to see you out and about. How are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” Rose said, her face neutral. “And you, Lady Christina?”

“Well. Thank you,” she replied, then gestured to her friend. “I think you know Lady Reinette?”

Rose looked at the blonde, who was only adequately hiding her discomfort at being near to her. “We met. Before the accident.”

“Briefly,” Reinette clarified. “Who is your handsome friend?” she asked, deflecting attention to the Doctor.

He pressed his lips together in a sketch of a smile and stood, offering a hand to each of the ladies. “I’m John.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Reinette told him with a charming smile. She looked down at Rose, her blue eyes calculating, as she said, “Did you hear that Lord James is to be married this Spring?”

Rose’s mouth tightened. The Doctor felt her hurt and found himself irritated by the manipulative woman before them. The mention of Rose’s ex-fiance in front of him was as deliberate as it was cruel. But Rose remained outwardly calm.

“Is he?” she said. Her honey-toned eyes were sharp as she added pointedly, “One hopes that this time he will follow through with it.”

“Quite,” said Christina, uncomfortably. She looked over at the hostess, who was waiting for them to finish their conversation, then back to Rose and the Doctor with a nod. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll leave you to your tea.”

Rose stood. “That’s all right. I find I’m no longer hungry.” She looked at him. “Doctor, I’ll meet you at the door. I must visit the powder room.” She swept away in a cloud of soft blue silk.

“A doctor, are you?” asked Reinette as he stood up and fished two gold coins from his pocket, laying them on the table. “I suppose that would make sense.”

He signaled their server to wrap the remainder of their pastries to go and frowned at the disagreeable lady. Her friend had already left to be seated, yet still she remained. What, if anything, did she hope to accomplish by continuing to drag Rose through the mud? It was out of pure, morbid curiosity that he asked, “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, a woman in her state would _need_ a doctor, wouldn’t she?” she said with a little chuckle.

“Are you implying that my friend is in some way _addled_?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Because she _is_ my friend. Something I am surprised _you_ possess, if this is how you are accustomed to treat people.” Her mouth dropped open in affront, but he continued. “Rose is in no way _lessened_ by what happened in her past, she is one of the most brilliant people I know. She is dear to me. She’s compassionate and strong and I consider myself lucky to know her. You would, too, if you could get past your backward-thinking prejudice.”

Reinette made a few indignant noises, but the Doctor was utterly done with her. He accepted the box of pastries from the server who stood meekly to the side and quickly left the shop in a huff. He waited at the bottom of the stairs for Rose, who appeared a few minutes later, her eyes a bit red, but with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.

“Did you say that was the best pastry shop in town?” she asked, stepping off the last stair. “I found it left something to be desired.” She sniffed and tucked a handkerchief into her sleeve.

“You know, you’re right,” he said, offering her his arm. “I don’t know what I was thinking. How can I make it up to you?”

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and tugged him closer to her side. “I feel like dancing.”

“I know just the place.”

* * *

The hall was loud and full of people, but the atmosphere was joyous, which was just what he felt Rose needed, after the stuffy tea shop. The bartender waved at him over the patrons’ heads and he returned it, signalling for two of the house specials. In the middle of the room sat a rotating stage, with musicians playing a variety of traditional and newer instruments. Rose saw that three of them were Clockwork, their metal ‘skin’ gleaming in the overhead lights.

She moved closer to the stage as the Doctor retrieved their drinks. The Clockwork with the silver and brass face smiled at her as his fingers skillfully flew over the strings of his gweeter. His clear glassy teeth gleamed. Rose stared in wonder, fascinated by the display. She didn’t even notice that the Doctor had returned until he nudged her shoulder with a tall silver tumbler that had white froth at the top.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it, then returning her attention to the musicians. “They’re amazing… I thought Clockworks couldn’t play music, because you need emotion to do so.”

“Maybe they feel more than you’re led to believe,” he said, mysteriously. “Shall we find a table?”

She nodded and took his arm again as he led them to a seating area ringing the dance floor. They dug into the pastry box and happily munched as they listened to the music. The Doctor smiled, glad to see that her appetite had returned. They laughed as they each got foam on their noses from their drinks, and she was able to coax him onto the dance floor with just a few flutters of her lashes. He proved himself to be more than competent and swung her around with ease, just to hear her laugh again. Soon, the unpleasantness from the tea shop was forgotten.

* * *

“I know why you took me there,” she said softly, as they headed back to the smithy long after the sun had set. Her cheeks were flushed and they were both sweaty from dancing, but to him, she looked as beautiful as ever, her hairstyle fallen and her golden hair tumbling about her shoulders.

“Oh?” he said, swinging their entwined hands between them.

“The bartender? He’s got a mechanical arm. You did that for him, didn’t you?”

He smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you noticed. I might have helped him out a bit. The musicians, too, whenever their Clockworks need a tune up, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

She giggled. “It’s nice to know that not every place has people who are prejudiced against hybrids.”

“Oi,” he said, tugging her to a stop. “You are not a hybrid, and I utterly hate that term. What you are is a feat of medical engineering. Only the most staunch traditionalists are against Clockworks and steam mechanics. It’s evolution at its finest!” He gave her a twirl to make her giggle some more. “And I know why you wanted to go dancing. After what that cow said about you, you wanted to celebrate being able to dance. Am I right?”

“Quite right,” she said, and sighed. “After the accident, they didn’t think I’d ever walk again.” She turned her back to him and pointed at the base of her spine. “I still wouldn’t be able to, if not for the device stimulating my nerves here. The surgery saved my legs.” She continued their walk, pulling him alongside.

In his mind’s eye, the Doctor saw Rose’s memory as it had played out for him in the depths of her heart. James Stone had led her to believe he wanted to marry her, against the wishes of his family. Rose had agreed to run away with him, swept up in the romance of the notion. He’d taken her innocence and then revealed that it was a prank, a dare orchestrated by him and his Academy friends, to seduce and ruin a naive lady. The panic attack she’d experienced resulted in her fainting at the top of a staircase. The fall had damaged her back, and she’d been in the hospital for months until the new surgery was attempted.

Rose considered herself lucky that her family had welcomed her back, it would have been within their right to refuse her and retain their standing in society. They had been willing to take the public shame and showered her with love, never pushing her to leave the house if she didn’t wish to, and for that, Rose was exceedingly grateful. Her love for her family was a bright place in her heart, one that had never cracked.

“I still can’t believe that nothing was ever done to that bastard--” He stopped speaking, abruptly. “Sorry… You probably don’t want to talk about him.”

“It’s all right. I share your feelings, quite literally at the moment,” she said, with a little chuckle. “My family was so outraged that the blame was placed on me for falling for his ruse, and all he received was a reprimand from the Citadel. I feel badly for his fiancee, whoever she is, that she’s being made to wed him.”

“I have to agree,” he said, but he was smiling. “It’s so like you to focus on that, rather than on what happened to you.”

She gave a slight shrug. “If I kept thinking about it, I’d never have moved past it. And I would never have met you, because I’d still be hiding away at my parents’ estate.”

“I’m even more lucky than I thought.”

She smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I heard what you said, you know… At the pastry shop.”

His grin faltered and he looked at the street as his face reddened, but he tried to sound nonchalant in his reply. “Oh?” he said, pulling on his ear. “I thought you’d gone to the powder room.”

“I had. The server told me when I left it, before I joined you downstairs. He said it was admirable, to have a friend like you to stand up for me.”

“You don’t need anyone to stand up for you, Rose, you do just fine on your own,” he said. “I simply couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I had to let that harpy know how I felt about her behavior.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said. “No one outside my family’s ever done that for me before.” She moved in front of him and stood on her toes, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

He found his mouth spreading in a dopey smile, unable to help himself, but it fell as she moved away, dropping his hand.

“Good night,” she said.

“Good night?” he repeated in confusion. He looked up and around and saw that they were outside the blue door to his shop. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up to the tips of his ears. “Good night,” he said again, sheepishly.

She waved, then hurried down the street. When she turned the corner, he expelled a long breath and smacked himself a few times in the forehead. He unlocked the door to the shop and went inside. Idris looked up from the glowing green console, where she’d been hammering something.

He pulled a piece of cake wrapped in a napkin out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Eat it quickly,” he said, removing his coat and jacket and tossing them over the old seats next to the console. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves up with quick, efficient movements. “We’re in for a long night.”

His TA nodded and went to fetch his apron and gloves, stuffing her mouth with chocolate cake as she went.


	4. Chapter 4

When Rose came back to the shop the following day, all was unusually quiet. Idris was over at the console, tightening bolts and screws, rather than banging away like they usually did. She waved her hands when Rose opened her mouth to greet her, signalling for her to remain silent with a finger to her lips, then pointed over at the worn out seats. The Doctor was lying across them, utterly passed out, with his long coat spread over him like a blanket. Rose suspected Idris had been the one to do it.

Rose smiled, listening to the soft, purr-like snores coming from him, and wondered how late he’d stayed up. “Do you have a kitchen?” she whispered to the other woman.

Idris nodded and motioned for Rose to follow her.

* * *

The Doctor took a deep breath in through his nose, slowly waking up. The scent of his favorite blend of tea filled his nostrils and he gave a slight appreciative moan as his stomach rumbled. Cracking his eyes open, he was startled by the sight of Rose’s face, quite close to his own. Instinctively, he reared his head back a little, then looked around to check where he was. He was still in the shop, but apparently, he’d fallen asleep on the jump seat. He looked back and she was still there.

“Hello,” he said, because it was the first thing to pop into his tired brain.

“Hello,” she answered with a smile.

His eyes dropped to what she was holding in her hand and saw that she’d been waving a cup of tea under his nose. He sat up and took it from her. “What a lovely way to wake up,” he said.

“I thought it might be gentler than shaking your shoulder,” she agreed, taking a cup for herself from the console.

He hummed noncommittally and busied his mouth with drinking before he could say he’d really meant waking up to seeing her face. Which brought to mind the reason for his late night. Gulping the tea to chase the cobwebs out of his brain, he set the cup and his coat aside and stood up. He placed his hands on his lower back and stretched backward, grimacing at the chorus of pops. He really must try not to fall asleep in odd places.

“It’s finished,” he announced.

He’d said it so suddenly, that Rose looked confused for a moment. Understanding dawned a minute later and her eyes widened. “So soon?” she asked.

He nodded and headed for his work bench with her trailing behind him. He removed the work cloth with a flourish and she gasped. Her heart, still held within the curls of the contraption, gleamed and glittered, whole and practically beaming with light.

“It’s beautiful!” she breathed, pressing her hands to her mouth. When she looked at him, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “You did it,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

He pressed his lips together, ducking his head. “So, then… It’s all yours,” he said, a bit perfunctorily. Leaning down, he released a catch and the metal curls fell away. He straightened, not touching the heart, but gestured for her to go ahead and take it.

Delicately, Rose reached out with both hands, lifting the heart from the mooring. It sparkled at her touch, as though recognizing its owner. A smile filled with awe hovered on her lips. “That’s amazing,” she said in a hushed tone. “I can… feel… _everything_! All the things I was too afraid to feel before.”

His eyes were full of happiness, but there was a sadness, too. Happiness for her… sadness for himself. Pulling on his ear, he said, awkwardly, “Then, if you’re satisfied with the work, would you mind… letting me have mine back?”

She looked up, half-startled, as though she’d forgotten. “Oh!” she said, leaning down to put her heart back in the holding contraption for a moment. “Of course, I’m sorry, you must be missing it.” She pulled the heart on her gold chain from underneath her clothes. He made to grab it quickly, but she frowned as she looked down at the heart he’d loaned her. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed and his stomach dropped.

He didn’t need to look to see what had her dismayed. He could tell from her expression that what he’d feared last night had already come to pass. Even so, he let his gaze drift to the golden heart in her hands… The center of it was shot through with a vibrant red.

“It’s all right, Rose,” he gently tried to reassure her, but she still held the heart in both her hands, not relinquishing it.

“Did I do something wrong? Have I harmed it?” she asked, deeply distressed. “Doctor, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, reaching for her shoulder with one hand and for the heart with the other. “Just give it here.”

“But what happened?” she asked as she carefully placed it in his upturned palm. As with her own heart, it sparkled at his touch, but not as brightly.

He sighed, not looking at her. “It’s… a side effect, I guess you could say,” he said.

“Like knowing about the food you like?” she asked.

“This is… a little different.” He ran a hand over his face, then occupied himself with attaching the heart to the silver chain around his neck in order to continue avoiding her gaze. He supposed he should tell her the truth, even if it meant she wouldn’t want to see him again. “You normally wouldn’t see something like this because all human hearts are the same color. My heart has a bit of red now because…” He swallowed. “Well, because… it recognizes itself as partially belonging to you.”

“Did I hold onto it for too long, is that it?” she asked.

He shook his head. Despite everything, he was proud of her for asking the right questions, for wanting to understand properly. “No, Rose.” He sighed again as he tucked his hearts safely beneath his shirt. He looked at the ground, then turned to face her, his expression serious, too carefully neutral to be natural. “When you love someone, they take up residence in your heart. With or without your permission.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened after a moment. “Ohhh…” There was greater understanding in her tone. “You mean--”

“I didn’t intend for it to happen,” he said, quickly. “I’m sorry.” His breath hitched in his throat on the apology and he turned toward the hallway, waving a hand in her direction as he moved away. “Just forget about it. I’ll be fine.”

Before she could say another word, he was running, his long legs taking him into the hall in no time. Seconds later, she heard a door slam shut.

“What--” she asked, helplessly, then exhaled the rest of the question that never came.

Idris emerged from behind the console where she’d been quietly observing the scene. Rose looked at her with eyes searching for answers.

“He loves me?” she asked.

Idris nodded. “Yes. He was afraid this would happen. It’s why we worked all night. He wanted to give your heart back to you before you noticed that something was different about his.”

“But I don’t understand,” said Rose. “Why is he so upset? Am I--” Her face crumpled. “Is the thought of loving me so terrible?”

“Oh, no,” said Idris, coming closer to take her friend’s hands in hers. “Just the opposite. He believes he’s not good enough for you.”

“Why? Because I’m a lady?”

Idris’ face held a deep sadness. “It’s more than that.” She pulled Rose toward a sofa. “Come over here. I need to show you something.”

They sat down together and Idris took a deep breath, then pulled on the silver chain around her neck. Rose gasped as Idris carefully revealed her heart.

The same golden color as the Doctor’s, it was plain that Idris had once had two hearts, but now they were haphazardly fused together, forming one over-large, slightly misshapen heart, connected by delicately working clockwork parts.

“We’re the only two left,” she said, softly. “Our planet… it was under attack. He was supposed to go to the fight with the rest of our family, but…” She shook her head. “He took me and we stole a ship and left instead. He didn’t know how to fly it, we crash landed here.” She tilted her head over at the console they were always working on. “That over there? It’s what’s left of the ship. We keep hoping that one day we might go back… See if anyone else survived.”

Rose looked at the console, at the various cobbled together pieces, but under all that, she could see now what might be steering hydraulics and inputs for coordinates. She wondered how she could have overlooked it before, but then, she didn’t know much about space ships either.

“The landing, it was… rough.” Idris said the word like it was the best she could come up with without going into specifics. “He survived with a few scrapes and bruises, but me, well… A part of the ship collapsed on top of me.”

Rose covered her mouth with one hand, trembling just at the thought of such a terrifying ordeal. “How did you recover? I mean…” She glanced over the other woman’s body, which appeared not to have a scratch anywhere. “You look fine.”

She smiled lightly. “It’s because of the Doctor I’m alive. He saved me.” She paused. “I mean that literally, he downloaded my memories and thought processes as I was dying. He built me this body.” She poked a finger at her cheek. “Pretty good, isn’t it? You’d never know it’s a poly-prosthetic material. It's why he's so good with Clockworks... because I pretty much am one. Except for what's here.” She nodded down at her heart. “He fixed this, too. They were already a bit broken, what with losing our family and… everything.” She swallowed and cleared her throat before continuing. “But a few pieces shattered on impact. Well, you know how fragile they can be when they’re damaged. He did the best he could with what he had.”

She smiled up at Rose. "I lived in the ship's computer while he built my body and fixed my hearts, well, _heart_ , I suppose." She looked up at the domed room with a fond expression. "I think we still might be a bit connected, this old ship and I."

Tucking the patchwork heart back under her dress, she looked over at the hallway. “He doesn’t think I remember being completely human, but I do. I pretend so he can forget his guilt, at least for a while.” She looked back at Rose. “Do you see? That’s why he doesn’t think he deserves to love you, doesn’t think he should be able to reach for happiness. He’s plagued everyday by his cowardice, by the fear that led him to abandon our planet. He blames himself for what happened to me, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. I hope that one day, he’ll be able to see that he saved my life when he saved his, and that even losing my human body was worth being able to live.” She leaned forward, taking Rose’s hands again. “I think you can help him with that, Rose.”

“Me?” she asked. “How?”

“If you can love him, too.” The dark-haired woman tilted her head. “You do, don’t you? I see it in your eyes when you think he’s not looking.”

“I-- I don’t know…”

Rose had spent so long trying not to feel anything, she wasn’t sure what it was she was feeling for the Doctor. As she looked down at the whole, gleaming heart on her golden chain, she felt the emotion surging through her… Strong, powerful… It made her stomach flip over and tie itself in knots. Made her feel like she could do anything and yet, terrified at the same time. Awe-inspiring, that was the term she’d associate with this feeling. Was that love?

She _did_ know that she wanted to find out if it was. He deserved that, especially if it would help him. Anything for the Doctor, the man who’d come to mean so much to her in the short time they’d been acquainted. She looked up at Idris, whose face was full of hope, and nodded at her, a determined look in her eyes. Patting her friend’s hand, Rose stood up and walked purposefully into the hallway.

It didn’t take long to find which room he’d gone into, it was the only door that was shut. She hesitated for the barest moment, long enough to take a steadying breath, then she knocked.

“Go away, Idris!” came the Doctor’s irritated, muffled voice.

She bit her lip. Clearly, he didn’t want to be disturbed and also thought she’d left the shop, or at least, that she wouldn’t be the one to beard the lion in his den. But she had to know. “It’s Rose,” she said, lifting her voice enough to be heard through the door. There was a long silence. Eventually, she tried again, “Can I come in?”

Another pause, then the door opened and he stood just on the threshold in his shirtsleeves. He looked unwell, to say the least. His face was pale, but his cheeks were scrubbed raw, and his eyes were red. “I thought you’d gone,” he said, his voice hoarse now that she could hear it without a barrier between them.

“No, I, um…” Her stomach turned over, nervousness churning within, and suddenly the courage she’d felt moments before fled. “We never discussed payment.”

“Oh,” he said on an exhale, looking away. “Nevermind that.”

“No,” she insisted. Remembering what Idris said, she told him, “You saved me. You deserve payment. What can I give you?”

He released a shuddering breath as he looked up at her, his expression flickering between helplessness and something else. Guilt? Perhaps he was thinking he had no right to ask for anything, not after the ‘sin’ of loving her. But after a moment, he lifted a hand, palm up, between them. Gently, she placed hers in it. He glanced once at her face, then leaned down and placed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. He breathed in and out as he did so, the air warm on her skin. Goosebumps chased each other up her arm.

Straightening, he pressed her hand between both of his, rubbing lightly. He sketched a strained smile by clamping his lips together and nodded. “There. Payment.”

She blinked and tightened her grip when he would have released her. His chocolate eyes flicked to hers, askance. “But it is you who kissed me,” she pointed out. “Should I not be the one to kiss you, if this is to be your payment?”

His mouth worked, but nothing came out. She smiled, pleased to have flummoxed him, at least momentarily. She pulled on his hand and he came a step closer to her. She placed that hand at the curve of her waist, then one of hers on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck. She moved slowly, allowing him to see what she was doing, what she intended, but he didn’t stop her, didn’t move away. He stood, passively letting her position them the way she wanted, but she noted that he was trembling just the faintest bit, his chest rising and falling faster than before.

Gently, she pulled him down towards her and pressed her lips to his. He made a soft sound through his nose, like a sigh, like a man dreaming. It sent a frisson of sensation down her spine, something that doubling in intensity as his mouth moved against hers, no longer content to be acquiescent. The fingers at her waist gripped her more tightly, their touch a burning brand through her clothes. His other arm, which had been hanging loose at his side, came around her back, almost able to touch his own ribs, he was holding her so close. Her hand at his shoulder traveled upward, joining her other so they could tangle in his hair, the strands softer than a dove’s wing.

Their mouths opened for one another almost at the same moment, and when he moaned against her, something bloomed inside of Rose, an answering sound rising up, mingling with his like their tongues and breath. The emotions coursing through her unlocked a deeper understanding that both enlightened her and created even more questions. But she knew the Doctor held all the answers. For each touch, each caress, there was a corresponding flutter in her heart. She responded, recognizing in him her other half, something she couldn’t even see before he made her whole again.

When at last they pulled back, him resting his forehead against hers, their breath coming fast, shared between them, she clutched at her heart which was dangling against her abdomen on its chain. She’d forgotten to tuck it away in all the emotional tumult. She looked down, knowing what she’d see, smiling when it was confirmed.

The red gem was shining brighter than it ever had before, lighting their immediate area a deep red… And through its center, a glowing golden star, sparkling with hidden depths in its cloud-like swirls. The Doctor was staring at it like he couldn’t believe his eyes, blinking rapidly, as though he believed it would disappear.

“I’ve discovered something,” she said, catching his attention and he looked up expectantly. In his expression was a wonder that told her she’d done the impossible for him. “Having nearly broken my heart in the past, I don’t believe I should give it away to just anyone.” He nodded, watching as she removed it from the chain. “It should only ever be handled by someone who knows what they’re doing… Who knows what its been through and takes care to look after it.” She took his hand and transferred the red and gold heart into his keeping, curling his fingers around it. “Someone it can belong to… as if it were one of his own.”

A slow smile spread across his face, not missing the reference to his double hearts so there could be no doubt in his mind. Even with this reassurance, he asked, “Are you certain? I’m not going to stay here forever, Rose, I have to go back someday, to my planet.”

“To see if you can find others, I know.” At his surprised look, she angled her head toward the console room. “Idris told me. I think you may want to have a talk with her about… well, everything that happened. And when you go, I’ll go with you. Now that I don’t have to be afraid of breaking my heart, the idea of travel sounds wonderful. Maybe I’ll even learn how to fly the ship!”

“I just… don’t want you to ever regret it,” he said. “I can’t provide the kind of life you’re accustomed to.” He blew out a breath, shaking his head slightly. "And I have _no_ idea what your parents will say..."

“I don’t care,” she declared, passionately. “No one makes me feel the way you do, and I want that for always.”

“And…” he said, drawing out the word as he gazed at the heart he held in his hands then back at her. “How exactly do I make you feel?”

She gestured at the heart, as though it should be obvious to him. “I think it’s plain to see that I’m in love with you, Doctor.”

“I can see it,” he said, unable to hold back his grin. “I needed to hear it. I believe I’ll need to hear it every day, perhaps even several times, before I can really be truly sure.”

She giggled. “A kiss or two to accompany the statement probably wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Oh, you’re brilliant, you are.”

Carefully, he pulled his hearts from beneath his shirt and attached hers, then removed the heart she’d so recently been lent, and handed it to her… This time, for good. She smiled as a little shudder passed through her, as though she were chilled, but in reality, warmth suffused her entire being. The heart, exchanged for her own, felt right, felt as though it had ‘come home.’

With a bright smile, he wrapped her in an embrace once more, her feet leaving the floor as he swung them into the hallway together. Laughter bubbled up and fell from her lips, unable to be contained.

"Oh, Rose, I love you," he said, his lips against her hair. "If _you_ can love me then perhaps... perhaps I can be redeemed."

She sighed, shaking her head, as he set her back on her feet but didn't let her go. "I don't think redemption ever entered into it, but you're entitled to your feelings." She traced the collar of his shirt, her eyes soft. "Just know that you have people who love you, regardless."

"Thank you," he said, burying his face against the crook of her neck. She smiled, stroking his head.

"All sorted, then, Grandfather?" came Idris' voice from the direction of the console room.

The Doctor sighed and said "Yes," at the same moment Rose looked at him in shock and exclaimed, "Grandfather?!"

He scrunched up his face, waggling his head back and forth. "Welllllll, not _technically_... We're more like cousins. The term is really just her being cheeky about my age."

"Just how old _are_ you?" Rose asked as they started walking toward the front of the shop, their arms wound around each other.

He just smiled, almost apologetically. "I have a lot to tell you about."

She couldn't help but return it with a tongue-touched smile of her own. "Well, good thing you've got forever."

He squeezed her and leaned down for another kiss before turning a frown on his... granddaughter? Cousin? TA?

"And you!" he said, sternly, pointing a finger at Idris. "What's with you letting me think you'd forgotten about everything?"

She grinned at him, smugly. "You're welcome."

When he let go of Rose, it was to embrace Idris, his face eloquent with the gratitude of a man who'd found a small piece of the home he thought he'd lost. He came to Rose again, taking her hand, their fingers naturally entwining, and it was a connection completing. He would always find his home, wherever she was.

Rose held a hand to her middle, her fingers finding the edges of the heart that was overflowing with love. "Is it always like this?" she wanted to know. "So... all-consuming?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his hair, as he looked briefly at the ceiling. "I'm not completely certain," he said, honestly. "From what I've learned from others, it can be overwhelming at first, but it won't always be at the forefront. However, it will always, _always_ , be there when you call upon it." He reached out and brushed a stray hair from her cheek, tracing his fingers along her soft skin. "How about we learn together?"

She held his hand to her face and nodded. "I like that idea."


End file.
